Under the Choir Robe

Lydia Longley had been in the church choir since she was ten beginning with the Junior Choir. Everyone said that God had given her a beautiful voice and, indeed, He had. Lydia was musical and smart. The choir directors always had her sing in the alto section because she could read music and was a strong enough singer to hold up a part against the melody which not many children could do. Lydia had never suffered from stage fright so she was also often called upon to sing featured solo parts in their choral pieces.

Later, as an adult she became a mezzo-soprano and professionally trained soloist. It suited her body type, as well as her temperament to be a mezzo. Handsome and statuesque, her 5'9" frame supported her substantial womanhood. She wasn't fat, but she sure was, as they say "built like a brick shit house!" For all of her robustness and diva status you might expect her to be loud and pushy, but her speaking voice and attitude were invitingly gentle and pleasant.

On Sunday's she wore her shoulder length chestnut hair tied with a cream ribbon at the nape of her neck in a neat provincial ponytail. The ribbon matched the color of her mid-calf length, cranberry choir robe's stole.

Because of Lydia's imposing height she often had trouble getting dates in high school and college. Coupled with her semi-professional local fame and her intellect she was an imposing presence that many young men's egos could not tolerate. So at the age of 25 she was still a virgin. She had planned to be a virgin until she was married, anyway, as all that church music and church attendance had really shaped her character in that respect. But she was as sexually alive as anyone else and spent many hours perfecting another solo activity to keep her libido in line with her morality.

Lydia loved to cum. She loved its rapturous release of stress and tension. It helped her to unwind and sleep. Lydia had a variety of techniques. Mostly, she just diddled herself with the forefinger of her right hand while rubbing her breasts and squeezing her nipples. Other times she used a small vibrator to stimulate her clit. She didn't want to buy a dildo or anything that, if inserted, would break her hymen. She wanted her husband to do that.

By far though, her favorite way to get off was in the bathtub. Lying on her back, she would skootch down to the end of the tub so that her butt was over the drain and her legs were straight up the wall. With the water pouring full force out of the spout, she would position her clit right under the flow so that the steady stream of water cascading down could beat on it.

Lydia was never sure just how soundproof the walls of her condo were, so she always played music loudly enough, she thought, to cover the cries of ecstasy she could not contain, as without fail, her urban waterfall would transport her to the perfect climax and multiple orgasm.

But Lydia had become bored with her nightly masturbation routines. What she really wanted to spice things up was a man. But since none were currently in sight, Lydia decided to create an erotic daytime expression.

In her mind the perfect place to start to liven things up was at church. Under the cover of her choir robe, who would know what she did or didn't have on, or in, for that matter?

When push came to shove, Lydia did not at first, know how lewd she dared to be. So the first Sunday she was subtle. Lydia wore a skirt and blouse under which she wore her usual bra, but she decided to go commando under panty hose. Just before the service began, Lydia went to the ladies room and slipped off her short skirt. It couldn't be seen under her robe anyway and secreting it in her oversized handbag she returned to her place in the alto section in the choir loft.

"This is fun," she thought. "It feels so naughty, so sinful. Good thing Protestants don't have to go to confession!"

Next week, instead of panty hose Lydia wore thigh highs and a thong. She took off her skirt as she had the week before, but then she also took off her blouse. Singing with the choir, getting up and down through the liturgy with only her intimates on under the cover of her choir robe made her constantly wet. It was so titillating to sit in church, so sexy and so exposed and yet so unexposed. After a while though, Lydia got used to sitting in only her underwear under her robe and it had gotten a kind of sameness to it. So when the warm weather came Lydia decided to take it up a notch.

The first Sunday in June was especially warm and so she chose to put on a simple black linen shift over her naked body. Her tits were firm and proud under the dress even with out her ritual support and no one would think it odd for her to be barelegged in her sandals at this time of year.

Just as every Sunday before the service began, Lydia went to the ladies room to strip off her clothes. For the first time, she would be in church entirely nude except for the shroud of her choir robe. Her nipples became erect, but their proud stiffness was not visible through the robe. This was exciting. She felt so stimulated, so alive and so free.

Returning to her place in the choir she thought, "Well, we are all naked in the sight of God, I've just given him a few less layers to peel off!"

Lydia loved her Sunday morning nudity especially when she sang solos. Standing down front on the altar before the entire congregation singing of God's eternal love, divine grace and supernal power was a spiritual and erotic rush. It was after her solo on the second Sunday in June that she vowed she would never wear anything under her robe again.

* * *

In the fall, Justin Johnston, joined the choir. He was 35 years old and a widower. His wife and only child had died suddenly in a fatal car crash. He had been reclusive for the year following the tragic event, burying himself in his grief and his work, but he knew his wife would not want him to crawl into a hole and withdraw from life. So he gathered his resolve and made his first foray back among the living by going back to church.

He had a fabulous deep bass voice that was just what the choir needed and the easy welcoming fellowship of the Sunday morning choristers was a good place to make his reentry. By being in the choir he wouldn't have to experience the awkwardness of picking a place to sit in the congregation, either. Should I sit alone or with someone? If I sit with someone, who should it be? What would be proper, appropriate? Joining the choir removed the dilemma. They'd tell him where to sit and who sit next to in the bass section.

The choir was set up in two rows. In the front row were the sopranos and tenors and in the back row the altos and basses. As fate would have it, Justin ended up sitting next to Lydia in the center of the back row. Lydia and Justin developed an easy friendship and on Valentine's Day six months after Justin had begun in the choir, he asked Lydia for a date.

A mature and established man, he was not intimidated by Lydia's talents or brains and at 6'2" her 5'9" was not an issue, even in heels. He treated her to intimate dinners out at restaurants and at his home. He took her to the theater and to concerts and sometimes they went for walks or picnics or sat quietly reading books or the paper. They kissed, hugged, walked hand'n'hand and got to know each other very well.

Lydia had fallen in love with Justin back in October and she was thrilled when he finally asked her out in February because she had been going crazy sitting next to him with nothing on but her thigh highs under her choir robe every Sunday.

Justin was a wonderful man and their relationship grew to include a lot of heavy petting so they did share the intimacy of orgasm, but he loved her virginity so he did not pressure her to give it up. This meant, too, that they never spent the night together because they knew they would never be able to resist the temptation. Justin and his first wife had been virgins when they married and he had not forgotten the special connectedness they shared in that bond. No matter how horny he got or how wonderful he knew it would be to penetrate her, he held back.

Lydia was no better off. Her ardor had been so piqued that when she could not be with him she had to masturbate twice a day. She loved Justin and dreamed about their ultimate consummation. How wonderful it would be to experience his full manhood deep inside her, but she had to hold out.

A year passed by and Justin and Lydia had developed what seemed to be a perfect relationship. Justin had fallen in love with Lydia, but he was not sure he was ready to marry again. He wondered if he should terminate their relationship because of her stance on virginity. He didn't want to defile her or hurt her and she deserved to have her ideals at least the first time around. Perhaps he should go away and find someone else.

Despite their closeness, Lydia had not yet divulged her secret to him. What would he think when he found out that sitting next to him every Sunday morning she wore nothing but her birthday suit under her choir robe? She knew she should tell him if their relationship was to be based on honesty and so decided to confess her strange proclivity the very next Sunday.

It is rude to chat during the service at church, so Lydia brought a pad of Post-its to write on. That way she could pass him notes silently during the sermon.

As the minister began his homily she penned the first missive that queried, "What do choir members wear under their robes?"

Justin though it was the lead-in to a joke, so borrowing her pen he wrote back, "I don't know, what do choir members wear under their robes?" and showed it to her.

Taking the pen back and on a new Post-it Lydia replied, "Nothing," and handed it to him.

Puzzled and somewhat put off that Lydia would bother him with something so unfunny during the sermon, that happened to be a good one for a change, he crumpled the note and crossed his arms.

Amused by his annoyance, Lydia pens another note and hands it to him. "What do I have on under my choir robe?" it asks.

Frowning Justin reads the note and then reads it again. Uncrossing his arms he crumples this note, as well, and looks over at her and mouths semi-audibly, "Yeah, right, very funny. I'm trying to listen!"

Penning her last, she writes, "What would it take to make you a believer?" and shows it to him.

The look on his face as revelation set in was priceless and at first blush the idea amused him, however, ultimately he could not suppress his incredulity. Lydia, naked under her choir robe? "Tease," he thought.

At the end of the service and before Lydia can disappear to the ladies room to change, Justin whisks her out of the sanctuary and into the Parish Hall. Without stopping to talk with friends at coffee hour, he guides her into one of the upper rooms, usually used for committee meetings on the second floor and closes and locks the door behind them.

At this old church there are several parlors upstairs in the Parish Hall. This one is beautifully appointed featuring a large mantle piece, raised paneling, three leather chairs, a mahogany desk and an exquisite Oriental rug. He stands Lydia in the middle of the room on the central medallion of the rug and seats himself in a leather chair in one corner. Arms and legs crossed and commands, "Show me."

"You don't you believe I have nothing on under here, do you?" "Show me," he repeats.

"O, ye of little faith!" she teases.

Smirking, "So, show me."

Standing in the middle of the room and turning her back to him she begins a little strip tease. She raises her arms so that the sleeves of the choir robe make her look like a scarlet snow angel and lunges softly to the right and then to the left. Bringing both wings in she unzips the front of her robe and holds the front open like a cape. Dropping the right side of the robe and glancing over her right shoulder Lydia brings her hand up over her head and delicately, using two fingers, pulls the end of the cream hair ribbon releasing her ponytail. A light shaking of her head allows her lovely thick mane to float free.

Reaching around the front she puts her right hand under the robe directly on her hip. Lunging again gently to the right this time, reveals her right leg, hip and half of her beautiful round ass.

Justin's eyebrows rise in surprise and approval and she repeats the elegant motion, this time, to the left. Turning around to face him, she raises her angel wings again. The placket of the robe parts, but slightly. Following the 4 inch gap of exposed skin down from the tip of her stole, between her breasts, past her belly button and over her flat abdomen his eyes stop their descent at her lush, brown bush.

"Now do you believe?"

" Come here."

Lydia walks over to him and uncrossing his legs he reaches under her robe and places his hands each side of her breasts. He draws her to him, kisses her sweetly and asks, "Is this the first Sunday you have gone naked under your robe?"

"No."

"How long have you been doing it?"
"Since before I met you."

"And I never knew."
"Looks that way," she says nevously.

"What ever possessed you?"

"If I say, 'The devil made me do it,' will you laugh?"

"Yes. I'll laugh," he smiles.

"And you're not mad or disgusted?"
"No, I am not mad or disgusted, Lydia. It's just so outlandish I can't believe that you have been doing this right next to me and I didn't know it."

"Do I have to put my clothes back on under my choir robe?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"That's good because I don't want to."

They kissed some more and Justin explored her body under the robe with his hands. Lydia drew back from him so that she was standing in front of him. Taking both of his hands she pulls him up from the chair and begins to frantically undress him. Unzipping his robe she pushed it off of his shoulders so that it falls to the floor, she the whips the stole off over his head and throws it into a corner. Justin worked at undoing his necktie and unbuttoning his shirt and sent it the way of the stole while Lydia undid his belt and let his pants drop to his feet.

His stiff cock made a tent of his boxers. Justin kicked off his pants and shoes. Still in her robe, Lydia knelt to take off his shorts and after pulling them off zeroed in on his full erection. She opened her mouth and throat hungrily eating its length. She took it all the way down to his balls. He put his hand on her head and began fucking her mouth. His cock gets so large that she has to hand-pump the base of it as she sucked the head.

Backing off from her, he kneels down to face her. He gently pushes her down onto the rug. Her skin is so white against the red of her choir robe that he had stopped to spread out around her. He positioned himself over her on his hands and knees.

"Lydia, I want to put myself inside you. Will you let me?"

"I don't know,"

"I love you and you know that I am not going anywhere. I won't leave you."

She stammered, "I love you, too, but I, I uh."

"It's up to you." He waited.

"Okay," she whispered.

Spreading her legs with his knees and her wrists out to the side he poised his cock at the mouth of her vagina.

"Ready?"
Lydia silently nodded her assent.

Justin knew he had a fairly substantial cock and so he started gently. He broached her coarctate cunt bit by bit, at first, with just the head of his penis, and then he ventured the first half, in and out rhythmically 3 or 4 times, gradually opening her up to accept him.

Lydia felt her canal give a little each time he entered her. It wasn't like any feeling she had ever imagined. Through her masturbation she had only experienced the climax.

Finally, with one strong stroke to the hilt, Justin penetrated her hymen and came to rest hard against her cervix his length crowding her uterus.

Lydia gasped. There had been a sharp pain as he ruptured her maidenhead and then the very uncomfortable feeling of her vagina stretching to accommodate the fullness of him. Her uterus cramped at the assault and it was all very unsettling. Not at all like her romanticized fantasies.

Lydia looked worried and tense.

"You alright, Lyd?"

"It's not how I thought it would be," she said shakily.

"Just relax and let your body adjust. I promise it will get better. I am so proud of you and being inside of you is more wonderful than I imagined. You are just perfect, you know."

Lydia closed her eyes and tried to relax. Justin began gliding his cock slowly in and out of her vagina giving her a chance to get use to the feeling. He did not just want to fuck her and only get off himself. He hoped he could get her to relax enough to let go and cum before he let go and had nothing left to show her how good it could be. He wanted her to like this and want to do it again. He did love her. She had given up her virginity to him and he did not want her to feel cheap and used.

Justin made love to Lydia that afternoon in a parlor of the Parish Hall and she came and he came. She mewled and moaned and arched her back in a powerful orgasm and he reveled in the knowledge that he had brought her to the sweet climax that he knew she loved. Then looking to his own release that he knew was close at hand, he fucked her with abandon until groaning loudly, he ejaculated potently delivering his load deep inside her. Exhausted, he lay on top of her until his cock retracted naturally from inside her and then rolled off kissing her and thanking her for the privilege of making love to her.

Justin reclaimed his clothes and Lydia took hers out of her bag. Coffee hour was over and everyone had left the main hall. They walked back to the choir room to hang up their robes.

Justin finds a hanger and hangs his robe up. Lydia holds hers up and shakes it out examining it. "I'm going to have to wash mine. It has a wet spot... Do you think I'm a whore?"

Justin turns around from the closet and looks at Lydia. "What? Do I think you are a whore? Come here," he says stretching out his arms and walking towards her.

Lydia walks tensely towards Justin into his embrace. "O, Lydia, I don't think you are a whore. I just made love to you. I love you."

"What if I got pregnant?"

"You can't. I have a vasectomy."

"You have a vasectomy? That's a relief."

"Sure. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to us. Hey, how 'bout we go have lunch at The Grotto?"

"That sounds really nice. It's very romantic. And Justin? Will you make love to me again later?"